


i've come to terms with the fact that everything i know is a dream.

by nishinono



Series: Living. [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: But of course gotta have the babes in there too., Experiments, Explosions, Heavily OC based, Multi, Typical Tokyo Ghoul stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishinono/pseuds/nishinono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time seemed to slow as he watched them run, like they were flying, and he realized that they’d made eye contact. Brown eye to brown eye, a slight flicker of fear rose in Lyonne’s chest at the agonizing emotions in the other’s eyes, before they ran off into the dark.<br/>Time continued to be sluggish as the owners of those cars came running towards him, asking him a flurry of questions that his brain was then too fried to process, and he turned on his heel and began to walk home.<br/>After about five minutes, he recalled the other's wrists.<br/>A hospital's wristband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've come to terms with the fact that everything i know is a dream.

The sky was pitch black from the rain fall.  
Sirens wailed in the distance, and some sort of commotion made traffic heavy going southbound.  
The sound of the rain pit-pattering on the car’s hood, the static of the radio, sirens and horns of roadragers were beginning to give Lyonne a headache.  
Sitting in the backseat of a compact taxi, the boy had to hold his breath and count. His head was pounding harder than ever before, and, finally fed up, he threw roughly twelve-hundred yen into the passenger’s seat, pulled his hood up, and got out of the cab.  
In the next five minutes, traffic was moving again and Lyonne was soaked to the bone.  
As he was turning into an alley that led to his home, he heard a loud crashing noise and shattering glass.  
Someone was lying on the sidewalk, right inside safety from between the two cars that should’ve crushed them.  
Lyonne’s instincts almost kicked in before he saw the injured citizen stir, then dart into the air and run, seemingly unscathed.  
Time seemed to slow as he watched them run, like they were flying, and he realized that they’d made eye contact. Brown eye to brown eye, a slight flicker of fear rose in Lyonne’s chest at the agonizing emotions in the other’s eyes, before they ran off into the dark.  
Time continued to be sluggish as the owners of those cars came running towards him, asking him a flurry of questions that his brain was then too fried to process, and he turned on his heel and began to walk home.  
After about five minutes, he recalled the other's wrists.  
A hospital's wristband.

 

“You’re home late,” a tall blond greeted him at the door, a soft, scared look on her face that emphasised the ripped scar on her upper lip. “Traffic that bad?”  
“I mostly walked home,” Lee’s light, feminine voice pierced through the dimly lit room. “It was hell tonight, Lana,”  
His home was a little apartment he shared with his older sister. One bedroom, halved between the two of them, connected to a bathroom that was almost as small as the kitchen they had. The house was very clean, however, with little to no marks on the walls or stains on the carpet.  
The wallpaper was a soft floral design, with cherry blossoms in vases on small shelves, along with cute little animal knick-knacks Lana had been collecting since she was young.  
Pushing past Lyonne, who was wiping his feet on the welcome mat, Lana shut the door to keep the rain from getting inside.  
All about heat and comfort, Lee thought, narrowing his eyes. Lana always seemed just.. too human.  
He thought of the body running in front of him: a walking, breathing, dead man.  
“I’m… I’m going to shower.”  
There was no answer from the elder sibling, so he stepped around the corner.  
The hallway seemed unusually dark, which made his hair stand on end.  
He gripped onto the wall, using it as a crutch as he ran into their room and flipped on the light.  
It was crippling, the winter.

Lyonne dreamed.  
But it wasn’t a typical dream. Not the ones he was used to, at least.  
He felt like he was drifting in dark, dark syrup. He could barely move, and it took a lot of effort to even open up his eyes to the pitch blackness that was in front of him.  
Almost as soon as he was able to see, it felt as if he was being propelled out of the darkness, and he felt a tube going down his throat and something gripping at the bridge of his nose, before he hit the surface.  
A silent scream rang out in the room, sweat soaking his shirt, but he didn’t go back to sleep.  
It felt too real.

The next morning, it was snowing.  
By the time Lyonne had gotten dressed, washed his face, and did his hair, the apartment door was almost stuck in place. About an inch of ice that had broken off of the door frame stood in front of him, which was already starting to melt away from the rain beginning to pour down once again.  
He checked his email from his phone before stepping out of the doorway, sighed, pulled on the hood of a dry jacket and headed out.  
Lee had begun the year by enrolling into a college. He was majoring in medicine (a dangerous profession in his current state of mind), and normally worked Saturday-Tuesday nights at a corner store a few blocks away from a close bakery. Tonight, much to his dismay, was one of those nights, but he had to survive sitting in a classroom for eight hours before he could do so.  
Whatever accident had backed up the freeway so bad, was currently airing on a news channel on a small television outside of an electronics store. Lyonne stopped for a moment, looking over.  
“...officials say they don’t know exactly who targeted the nuclear plant, but with the attempted explosion and the break in strategy, many believe that it could be Plague. The notorious ghoul is currently at an all time high, and their whereabouts remain unknown.” The screen temporarily turned black as they switched to the weather, and Lee felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.  
Turning to the side, his eyes traveled up to the top of the building behind him, where two unmistakable figures stood. Their poses were different - one crouching and leaning forward, the other standing and surveying the sky - , but the one thing that caught his eye the most was the mask on the crouching one, a long, thick, black beak that was often used to hide herbs to keep doctor’s healthy during the Bubonic Plague.  
Lyonne’s eyes immediately widened, but before he could say a word, someone bumped into him hard enough to make him look away.  
Busy street noise drowned out the apology, and it brought him back to reality. When he glanced back up onto the roof, the figures were gone.  
The lingering feeling of being watched didn’t leave Lyonne that day.

Lyonne walked home alone that night, too late to hail a cab.  
He kept his hands in his pockets, his messengers backpack clicking at every step. His hair, which was usually bushed up and gelled, was starting to fall apart and obscure his vision, so he placed in his studying headband to keep it from his eyes.  
Yawning, he turned a corner a street too early, and as he was wiping the tears from his eyes, he realized he was at a dead end alley.  
“Awh,” he murmured, mouth hanging open as he stared at it and examined his possible routes. Of course, he could always turn back, but what if someone saw him? He’d be embarrassed, and wouldn’t live it down if it was someone he knew.  
And he could feel something staring at the back of his neck, making the little hairs stand up. He’d felt like this all day, but he didn’t feel that spider web effect when he took a small step. Without looking in the direction he was almost certain it was coming from, he spun on his heel, lowered his head, and began to walk back. In the process, he reached up and pulled his hood over his face so he wouldn’t be recognized.  
After a few seconds, the feeling of being watched got more noticeable, and then suddenly there was a hand on his back. Before he could say anything, he felt his body being lifted up and thrown back into the alley, near the back of it, hitting the abandoned house on the right. On contact, he spat, but all that really hurt was the bruises that would result in the morning.  
As he opened his eyes, hands were once again lunging at his throat, but he had the ability to dodge just in time. As his attacker came right on back, his hood flipped off as he rolled, before getting pinned down by a sharp knee and nails at his throat.  
He couldn’t see his attackers face, he could barely breath, and when the teeth were coming --  
"Wait! I know you!"  
That halted the movement, and Lyonne held his breath before the body on top of him began to move a little farther away. “You… you’re the guy that almost got killed yesterday, aren’t you?”  
The same sweet, yet slightly damp, rotten smell began to bake in Lee’s nose, and when his attempted murderer looked him in the eye, the same that flickered with fury and confusion instead of horror. He got a good look, noticing the short cut, feathery hair that framed (his? Her? Could be a her. But, the cut was short, and slightly masculine. His? He wasn’t sure) their face. Their skin was tanned, not exactly to the point of his own, a little lighter. But, their eyes were different. Terrifyingly so. They were so alive, so intimidating, so.. curious.  
When they had held contact too long, the ghoul on top of him quickly rolled off and crouched, their eyes switching back to the same almond colour he’d known previously. The sudden absence of black and menacing red was like an aching muscle in his jaw.  
But fury, and almost untamable hunger drew him in. He got onto his knees, inching backward.  
After another moment of stunned silence, they winced and held onto their side, grinding their teeth, and Lee finally noticed how many cuts and bruises there were. Blood, their own and possibly other’s, was splattered around his shirt, and that made Lyonne leap at the opportunity to help.  
“You need help!” He practically shouted, but was waved away.  
“What do you think I was trying to do?!” They yelled right back, and the confusion of gender hit Lee again. He dismissed it for now.  
“I,” he started, swallowing, and reached out with delicate fingers. “I can help you.”  
“I know that,” they hissed, and winced once more at the pain.  
“You should run,” they warned, but it was playful. The grin that passed on their face sent the message to Lyonne that there was no running. You could hide, but you could never run away. That would make a small encounter into a cat-and-mouse game where he’d never feel safe again.  
This ghoul was dangerous. He’d need to finish this while he could.  
But his instincts were kicking in, both of the benevolent and malicious kinds. He wanted desperately to help someone in so much pain, so much hunger, but the blood was beginning to make his stomach growl.  
“No,” he stated numbly. “I don’t need to.”  
“Are you stupid, or just suicidal?” Without waiting for an answer, they laughed, and lunged again for Lee’s throat. He easily dodged, as his opponent was weak and frail from pain, and just stuck his fist up so that their stomach collided with his knuckles and caused them to cough up a little blood.  
“Neither. Unlike every other ghoul on this damned Earth, I happen to enjoy helping people. Jesus.”  
Lyonne attempted to pick them up, but didn’t have the upper body strength to pick up someone both taller and heavier than him. Rain began to mist, and he put his jacket over his attacker’s head to keep them dry.  
“Let me look.”  
“No.”  
Lee reached and pulled up his shirt anyway, looking at the deep cuts and scratches that covered their stomach and chest. For a moment, he thought back to the news report from that morning, but quickly dismissed the thought.  
 _There’s no way this is the Plague. _  
 _The Plague would never get this hurt.___  
He vaguely recalled how the wind smelled during that time, but recalling how the figure was crouching, it could be passed off as a stance for the wounded.  
 _But then…_  
 _Who was that next to them?_  
Lyonne gritted his teeth. He hated not knowing.

Lyonne was lucky enough to have gotten a hold of Lana so late into the night.  
"I need help, okay?" He growled into the receiver, holding the unconscious body of Dallas. The stranger's wallet had fallen out of their pocket before they'd passed out, and their I.D had been inside. "We both know I can't carry someone bigger than me."  
"Who are you even helping, Lee? What have I told you? We help --"  
"Ourselves and only ourselves, others can fend for themselves, blah blah blah. Look, I know. But do you really expect me to just leave them here?"  
"Lyonne, just... come home, okay?"  
"Not without Dallas."  
Silence followed afterward, and for quite a few heartbeats, he was certain Lana was screaming into a pillow while covering the phone.  
"Fine! Fine. I'm on my way."  
After she hung up, Lyonne coiled his hand into a fist.  
That same, syrupy feeling overcame him, and it was hard to even do that.  
And, when he listened closely to the sounds of the night, the birds sounded more like heart monitors. 

**Author's Note:**

> wow wowowow ohkay okay. so, my friends and i made these oc's who are total cuties and i had this idea to write a fanfiction for tk. but i couldn't really pinpoint write kaneki so i was like "well what if i make my au plot into an au plot based off of these oc's???" so i did. i know a lot of people don't like reading heavily oc based fanfictions, but i'm giving it a try anyway.  
> roughly, this is placed in the universe of toukyou kushu, but doesn't necessarily follow along with the same plot??? the characters are in there, it's the ghouls vs the humans/doves and stuff, but from a different time and place and sort of a different reality where crazier stuff is going on.  
> idk i don't know how to really explain it.


End file.
